Medieval Times
by Kinsey Adelaide
Summary: AU I took Dick and Bruce and company and deposited them in a medieval setting. Rather fluffy. First entry probably a one-shot, but I do have a plan after that.
1. New Clothes

**I was inspired by a story of two over in the Batman section, in which people were using medieval and/or fairy tale themes.**

**Disclaimers: the usual.**

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><p>Bruce, king of Gotham, was being dressed by his grooms when one of his chamber knights, Sir Oliver, entered.<p>

"Your grace, there is a page here with a message from Sir Alfred."

"Sir Alfred?" the king asked in surprise. Sir Alfred was the master in charge of his young son, Prince Richard. As the prince's master, Sir Alfred was responsible for Richard's schedule, his education, and generally the child's entire life. Richard didn't do anything without Alfred knowing, and no one was allowed to see the prince without going through Alfred first. Alfred had been Bruce's master when he was a boy; he trusted the man with his life, and, more importantly, his son's life. It was, however, a bit unusual to hear from Sir Alfred so early in the day.

"Send him in," Bruce added when everyone in the room respectfully declined to answer his rhetorical question.

Sir Oliver bowed, exited, and returned moments later with a young page. The page seemed almost frightened to be in the presence of his king.

"Yes, what is it," Bruce barked impatiently as his grooms began putting on his doublet.

"Y-yyy your grace, Sir Alfred requests you come to the prince's chambers as soon as possible. The prince has received an inappropriate gift from Paris and your assistance is required."

Bruce sighed. Paris. That had to mean the gift was from Clark, duke of Kent, his cousin – no, second cousin. Bruce found Clark entirely too cheerful, but the man was a high-ranking noble and a kinsman, so he had to put up with him. Unfortunately for the king, Queen Selina thought Clark was delightful and Richard fairly adored the man, so he had to put up with him more than he would have liked. Thankfully, Clark was an excellent diplomat, but Bruce hadn't counted on him being able to cause trouble from overseas.

"Tell Sir Alfred I will be there momentarily," Bruce told the quaking page. When the child didn't immediately exit Bruce added, "You may go now."

With a lightning-fast bow, the page was out the door; Sir Oliver chuckled to himself about the monarch's sometimes woefully-inadequate people skills.

Finally, the king was dressed. With his silken hose, hip-length doublet, and knee-length gown over top, he was ready for action. Sweeping out of his apartments, his dashed through several corridors before ending up outside the prince's chamber door.

Since he was the king, Bruce felt no need to knock; he simply swung open the door. Richard was proudly showing off his clothes to an exceedingly patient (but none-too-pleased) Alfred. On hearing the door open, Richard turned to look and his face lit up with joy.

"Daddy!" he cried, running up to Bruce and flinging his little arms around his father's waist. Dick did his best to give his father a bear hug, but his arms weren't long enough. He squeezed as hard as he could, though, practically vibrating with excitement. Even though they lived in the same palace, he didn't interact with his father every day, and almost never before mid-day dinner. Something wonderful must be happening!

"Good morning," Bruce replied, scooping his son up so that they could properly hug one another. That accomplished, he set the child down, and held him out at arms' length so he could see this abominable new outfit.

And it was atrocious. Bruce looked over at Sir Alfred, and the two exchanged a "What-was-Clark-thinking?" glance. The whole outfit, from top to bottom was bad. For starters, the hose were two different colors: one leg was red, the other was yellow. And the doublet was ridiculously short – it only came down to Dick's waist, leaving his entire backside and front exposed. Well, technically Dick's bottom was covered by his hose, but Bruce hardly considered that adequate covering for anyone, let alone a rambunctious child. The absolute worst part, though, was the glaring green codpiece, which just invited attention at a place no one should be looking at (especially not on his son! Bruce thought). Bruce had heard rumors of these newfangled codpieces, but he had hoped and prayed they would remain a European phenomenon. And he'd be damned if his son was going to be the first person in the entire kingdom of Gotham with one. It was downright unseemly.

"What do you think?" Richard asked happily. Clearly he was in love with it. But why wouldn't he be? He adored Clark and he had the innocent mind of a child. Bruce realized he would need to let his son down gently.

Before Bruce could answer, though, Dick was racing over to the box and pulling out a letter. Triumphantly brandishing it, he announced, "Cousin Clark wrote that this is the new fashion in Paris. And he knows that red and green and yellow are my favorite colors so he hopes I like it!" Dick pranced around the room as he spoke, confirming Bruce in his opinion that this outfit was completely unacceptable.

"Where's your gown, Dicky?" he asked gently.

Dick stopped his gymnastics and peered at the letter. "Cousin Clark said there isn't any gown. That's the new fashion in Paris. Just hose and doublet and… this thing," Dick waved his hand in confusion at his codpiece-enclosed nether regions. "Cousin Clark didn't mention this funny thing."

"He didn't?" Bruce held out his hand for the letter. After Richard handed it over, he gave it a quick scan. No, Clark certainly had not mentioned the codpiece. That was one mark in Clark's favor.

Before Bruce could think of how to convince Dick to get out of his new outfit, the chamber door opened and a semi-distraught Queen Selina entered.

"Mommy!" Dick shouted. He couldn't believe it – both parents in one morning! Today must be a special day.

"Oh baby, baby," Selina murmured to Dick in Catalan, the language of her native Catalonia. "I was so worried about you. I went by the schoolroom and you weren't there. I thought maybe you were ill."

Dick wiggled out of his mother's hug and proudly stood before her. "I'm fine! Look at the new outfit Cousin Clark sent me. It's all the way from Paris!"

Selina bathed Dick with her best faux smile. "It's very colorful, sweetie." Turning to Bruce, her horrified eyes said, "We cannot allow our son to wear that monstrosity." Bruce just nodded and sighed.

Thankfully, Sir Alfred came to the rescue. Apparently the few minutes in which he had not been the center of his young charge's attention had given him time to think. "My lord, while it is a fine outfit, I do not think it fits you properly."

Dick looked heartbroken. "You don't?" he asked meekly.

"I do not, sir. The proportions are somewhat … off, shall we say. We must have the royal tailor in here at once."

Selina and Bruce voiced their vigorous agreement.

"But won't I be late for my lessons?' Dick asked quietly. He had his academic lessons in the morning, taught to him by only the finest scholars, hand-picked by Alfred.

"Quite all right," Bruce soothed. "I shall send a page to let your tutor know you'll be late."

"Okay!" Dick said brightly. He'd much rather spend time with his parents than those silly old tutors anyway. Besides, today was Latin and he didn't much like Latin.

"I shall be back momentarily," Alfred said as he sailed out the door.

Alfred returned with the tailor in what seemed like mere moments. Although Alfred had tried to prepare him, a look of horror still crossed the tailor's face when he saw the prince's outfit. Nevertheless, he smoothed his countenance and got to work.

"My lord," he said bowing to Richard. "That outfit simply does not do you justice."

"It doesn't?" Dick wasn't exactly sure how clothing did justice to anything.

"But I know what the problem is, my lord," the tailor said smoothly. "You have grown so much since Duke Clark has been gone that he has gotten your dimensions all wrong!"

"Really?" Dick asked, rather pleased to think he had grown so much.

"Oh indeed! This doublet is much too short. My, my, how you have grown." Dick fairly beamed as the tailor fussed about him, taking measurements and then furiously writing them down on a scrap of parchment.

The measurements taken, the tailor confiscated the entire outfit. "Would my lord also like a matching gown?" he asked, giving Richard a smile and a wink. Over Dick's head, Bruce and Selina nodded vigorously.

Dick grinned back. "Welllll, Cousin Clark said that's not the fashion." But one could tell by Dick's tone that he really wanted a new gown. After all, if a new doublet and hose was exciting, just think how much more fun it would be to have a new gown, too!

The tailor well knew how to get people to buy more clothing. "That might be the fashion in Paris, but Paris is much warmer than Gotham. You wouldn't want to be cold, would you, my lord?"

Although it wasn't strictly true that Gotham was colder than the French kingdom, Richard was not yet well-versed on European climates. He bought the story hook, line, and sinker.

"No, I wouldn't want to be cold. But could you make my new gown red?" He gave the tailor a winning smile.

"Of course!" the tailor announced with a dramatic flair. "It will be the finest red gown at court."

With Richard satisfied by the tailor's promises, the man bowed to his monarchs and exited.

Since they were already in the room, Selina and Bruce helped Richard to pick out a proper outfit. Selina then tenderly helped her little boy into his clothing, which obviously pleased Dick immensely. He was overjoyed to be receiving so much attention from his parents.

Despite his parents putting on a brave face, Dick could tell they had been a bit disgruntled with his gift. Once he was dressed, Dick went up to Bruce, who was sitting rather dourly in a chair, and hopped into his lap. Dick reached up and put his arm around Bruce's neck and leaned in close.

"You aren't mad, are you, Daddy?" he asked sweetly.

Bruce half-smiled. "Not at you, Dicky."

"You aren't mad at Cousin Clark, are you?"

In his peripheral vision, Bruce could see Selina giving him a sign that he should lie.

"No, of course not. It was just a silly misunderstanding."

Dick grinned, his trusting nature easily accepting the lie. "Good."

"I believe it is time for your Latin lesson now, young sir," Alfred offered.

Dick frowned. "Daddy, can I go with you to the Council meeting?"

Bruce laughed. Imagine – a child at a Council session! "No, Dicky, Council meetings are for grown-ups."

"But I'm big! I grew so much Cousin Clark's present didn't fit!"

Despite the supposed logic in that statement, Bruce wasn't going to be moved. "Do adults sit on their fathers' laps?"

Dick looked forlorn. "No, I guess not." Knowing that his cause was lost, he decided to make the best of it. Brightening, he added, "But they should!"

He then flung his arms around Bruce's neck, gave his father a kiss on the cheek, and slid off his lap in a matter of seconds. He gave Selina a hug and a kiss, too, as he flew out the door, Alfred hot on his heels.

As the king and queen sedately strolled together out of the prince's chamber, Selina commented, "Please don't be too hard on Clark. I'm sure he had good intentions."

"Good intentions!" Bruce exploded. "Is that how you'd react if _I_ tried to dress our son up like a male prostitute?"

Selina's eyes narrowed. "If you tried something that stupid, you wouldn't need a codpiece."

Bruce internally shuddered at the thought. "Then why isn't Clark going to be -," Bruce paused. This was awkward. "… missing a little something when he returns!"

"Oh Bruce, Clark is so clueless. And he and Duchess Lois don't have any children yet. He just doesn't understand."

"Just doesn't understand," Bruce grumbled. "Why I'd like to –"

"And he's your cousin," Selina added.

"_Second_ cousin," Bruce interrupted.

Selina sighed. "Then be nice for Dicky's sake. He does love Clark so."

Bruce scowled. He didn't have to like it, but he would play nice for his son's sake. "Fine. But I'm still giving him a piece of my mind when he comes back from France."

"Just be reasonable, darling. It's all I ask." And after giving Bruce a quick kiss, Selina glided away, off to her queenly duties.

Bruce grumpily headed to the Council chamber. On the way, he was met by Chancellor Lucius Fox, who kept the kingdom running smoothly.

"Tell me, Lucius: when does our delegation to France return?"

"I suspect in about one week, your grace."

Bruce smiled. Beautiful. He had an entire week to plot his revenge on Clark. Suddenly, the day was looking brighter.

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><p><strong>I actually didn't make up the basics of Dick's outfit. In the late middle ages and early modern period, some men wore really short doublets and conspicuous codpieces. It was a special time.<strong>


	2. Frogs

**Usual disclaimers and such. I don't own the characters and I don't own the middle ages (but I wish I did).**

**I tried to give accurate information about hunting and such, but the dialogue is (rather obviously) completely modern. I altered family relationships among the characters a bit as well.**

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><p>It was late in the afternoon, and Dick and his two closest friends, Roy and Wally, finally had a little time to themselves. They had spent all morning in the schoolroom, having academic lessons, and all afternoon outside having lessons in horsemanship and combat. Now, shortly before supper, they were lounging in the grass by the archery range.<p>

Wally was just two years older than Dick and the prince's best friend. Wally was the nephew and heir of Barry Allen, Baron of Central City. Since Wally would someday be a great noble, the adults had thought it advisable that Dick and Wally grow up and be educated together. That way they would have an easier time governing the country when they were both adults.

It was much the same case with Roy. Roy was the son and heir of Sir Oliver, and he was four years older than Dick. He too was being educated with the prince so that he could better serve his future king.

Being younger, Dick and Wally were a bit spent from the afternoon's exertions. They were therefore quite content to just lay in the grass and waste time. Roy, on the other hand, had retrieved his bow and a quiver-full of arrows and was practicing at the archery butts.

Wally watched Roy make several perfect shots before he asked, "Why are you practicing archery? Knights use lances and swords, not arrows." It was a legitimate question; the bowmen tended to be men below the rank of noble. Bows and arrows were the weapon of choice for those who could not afford a horse and armor.

"I'm practicing for hunting," Roy replied. "Even knights use arrows to go hunting."

Dick sat up and looked at Roy, perplexed. "I thought we used hawks."

"Yeah, me, too!" Wally agreed.

Roy rolled his eyes at the two younger boys. "That's not real hunting, that's hawking. That's hunting for ladies and little kids."

"No, it's not!" Dick defended hotly. "My dad goes hawking!"

"Uncle Barry does, too!"

"Yes," Roy agreed, "but Queen Selina and Baroness Iris also go hawking. But you'd never see them hunting."

"But hawking is still hunting," Dick moped. He would know – he had been hawking before. It was so exciting! You took a hawk or a falcon from the bird house and rode out to marshy ground with it. Then you released the predator and let it catch a duck or a heron or some other water bird. The hawk got to eat a little snack, while you took the bird home for dinner. It was all very civilized; so civilized, in fact, that the ladies often came along and had hunting hawks of their own.

"Speaking of hawks," Wally said, pulling at Dick's sleeve, "Uncle Berry got a new peregrine falcon a few weeks ago."

"Wow," Dick breathed. Peregrines were the best. It was quite the status symbol to have one.

"I know!" Wally exclaimed. "And he let me name him!"

"What'd you name him?" Dick asked, leaning closer.

"Well, since he's so fast, I named him," Wally paused for dramatic effect, "Flash."

"Cooool," Dick said slowly, a little in awe of Wally.

Roy snorted. "Don't you babies want to hear about real hunting? It's what men do."

"Have you been, Roy?" Wally asked, irritated that Roy was trying to steal the thunder away from Flash falcon.

"Well, Dad let me tag along once, but I can't go for real until I'm older. You see, hunting is dangerous."

"Really?" Dick and Wally both seemed more interested now.

"Yes." Roy paused to shot yet another arrow, which, once again, landed right on the bull's-eye. "People can even die."

Dick and Wally's eyes were as big as shields, letting Roy know he should continue his story.

"When men go hunting, they take their bows and arrows, their hounds, and ride their horses out to the woods."

At the mention of dogs, Dick and Wally turned towards the pack of hounds that was always hanging about the courtyard. Sensing they had been mentioned, the dogs started to lazily lope towards the boys.

"When you get to the woods, you let the hounds go, and they sniff out the game. Men go hunting for either stags or wild boars, and the dogs track them down. When you hear the dogs barking and growling, it usually means they found something. You follow them, then you take your bow and arrow and kill the beast."

Dick and Wally just started at Roy in wonder. Roy grinned and let fly another perfectly-aimed arrow. "And if your aim isn't good, you might not kill the animal, just wound it. And wounded animals, especially boars, get really angry and are liable to hurt someone. In fact, one of my dad's hounds was gored to death by an enraged boar."

Dick reached out and gave Ace, one of the hounds, a pat on the head. He would hate for Ace to get gored by a boar. Ace was his favorite out of all the royal hounds. Next to him, Wally was patting Krypto, another royal hound (which seemed to greatly favor Duke Clark, much to Bruce's dismay).

"So, I want to have perfect aim so that when I'm old enough to go hunting, no one gets hurt." Roy hit the target yet again.

"But the deer will get hurt!" Wally protested.

"Yes, maybe you just shouldn't go hunting," Dick suggested. "Then no one will be injured."

Roy shook his head. Silly kids. "If we don't go hunting, you won't have any venison or boar to eat."

"Oh." Dick and Wally hadn't thought of that.

"Come here," Roy gestured, "and I'll show you how to shoot."

Wally hopped up and went over to Roy. The older boy handed Wally the bow and told him to pull back the string. Wally pulled as hard as he could, but the tension was too much for him.

"Let me help," Roy offered, putting his hands over Wally's and guiding the bow string back. Roy then placed an arrow on the notch.

"Let go on three, okay?"

"Okay," Wally nervously agreed.

"Alright. One… two… three!" The shot swiftly through the air and landed on the target. It wasn't quite a bull's-eye, but it was a decent shot.

"I did it!" Wally hooted enthusiastically, doing a little dance. He then ran over to Dick.

"Come on, Dick, you try," he urged, pulling his friend to his feet.

With a sigh, Dick went over to Roy. If Wally could barely pull the bow-string back, how was he going to manage? But Roy helped Dick, too, and the younger child had the satisfaction of seeing his arrow land even closer to the bull's-eye than Wally's had.

"No fair," Wally moped.

"You guys will make great hunters someday. You know, once you're as strong as me." Roy flexed his muscles, showing the boys what they should aspire to.

"Well I wanna hunt something on my own," Wally whined.

"But I don't wanna kill anything," Dick interposed. "The dogs might get hurt." He gave Ace an affectionate pat.

"I know!" Wally's face lit up. "Let's go catch some frogs. I have a net in my room that Uncle Barry gave me. And you never see girls going after frogs." Apparently, Wally was most concerned that his only hunting experiences involved hawking, or what Roy had derided as "girl hunting."

"What are we gonna do with them?" Dick asked. He made a disgusted face. "I don't wanna eat frogs."

"We'll keep 'em!" Wally shouted triumphantly, so enthused was he about his plan. "We'll catch them and keep them, and they'll be our friends."

"Really?" Dick perked up. He liked that idea. He was always ready to accumulate new friends.

"Yes, it will be the best thing ever! We'll catch the frogs and bring them back and we'll teach them to do tricks and it will be great and I'm going to capture a really fast frog and call him Flash," Wally finished in a rush.

"But you already named your falcon Flash," Dick said. Apparently, he had no trouble following Wally's conversation, although Roy had been left in the dust.

"That's Flash Falcon. This will be Flash Frog. It's totally different."

"Oh." Dick looked a bit confused. "If you say so."

"I say so."

The two boys began to whisper conspiratorially, making plans to go to the marsh after their combat lessons the next day. After a while they asked, nearly in perfect unison, "Roy, do you want to come?"

Roy was tempted to explain that he did not go on hunting trips that did not involve any actual hunting, but the boys seemed so eager to catch frogs that he decided to go easy on them. "No, guys, sorry. I can't."

"Aww, why not?"

"I, uhhh, I gotta help my dad."

"What do you have to do?" Wally asked, but Roy was saved from having to answer when Dick elbowed Wally in the gut and told him such questions were "rude."

Roy strung another arrow on his bow and casually released another perfect shot. "But be sure to show me your find tomorrow." An idea was forming in his head.

After a couple of hours out in the marsh, two wet and dirty boys came tromping back to the castle, each with a small box under his arm. Roy was waiting for them.

"Soo, what did you guys get?"

Dick and Wally looked at each other before answering. "Well," Dick replied slowly. "We didn't get as many as we wanted."

"Yeah, most of them were too fas – err, too big for us to catch," Wally supplied.

"You two needed a pro. I guess I'll just have to show you how it's done next time." Dick and Wally looked very pleased that Roy would go with them sometime. "But, still show me what you got."

Dick and Wally presented their boxes to Roy. Each one contained three small to medium sized frogs. Overall, the kids hadn't done too badly, but Roy knew he could catch some giant frogs.

"Nice job guys. These are pretty awesome looking."

"You think so?" Dick asked, brightening.

"Yeah, they're great!" They were going to be just perfect for what Roy had in mind.

"That's Flash Frog," Wally said, pointing to the biggest frog in either of the two boxes. "He's really fast."

"He's not that fast," Dick retorted. "We didn't catch any really fast ones."

"Well, he's the fastest one we caught, so he's Flash Frog."

"Where are you going to keep your little friends?" Roy asked, innocently enough.

"Our chambers," Dick said with a shrug. Wally just nodded. Where else would you keep a frog?

"I hope they don't keep you awake all night with their ribbeting," Roy warned, leading his two young friends inside.

The next morning Dick leaped out of bed and ran over to the small box he had left by his water pitcher and wash basin. He had spent all last night thinking of names for his new frog-friends, and he wanted them to begin the first day of their new lives with proper appellations. Lifting the lid from the box, Dick peered inside to greet his friends.

He gasped. The box was empty! "Where are my frogs?" he shrieked.

"Frogs, Master Richard?" Sir Alfred asked, entering the room.

"Yes! They were right here last night when I went to bed." Dick pointed at the now-empty box and looked ready to cry.

Although he was relieved the frogs had absented themselves, Alfred didn't want Richard's day to get off to a bad start. "There, there," he said, giving Dick a hug. "I'm sure they just went out to find some water."

"But I left them water right there." Dick pointed disconsolately at his basin.

Alfred inwardly shuddered at the thought that frogs might have been using his young master's morning face-washing water. Hiding his true feelings, Alfred diplomatically replied that frogs preferred dirty water and had no doubt hopped off to find some.

"Will they come back?"

"I'm sure they will. Now let's get dressed and ready for your lessons."

Once in the schoolroom, Dick was somewhat mollified to learn that Wally's frogs were also on the lam. Both boys brightened considerably when Roy offered to help them search after that day's lessons were finished.

But they wouldn't have to wait that long. Not long after their lessons had begun, the boys heard a piercing scream.

"That sounded like Dinah," Roy said. Dinah was Roy's stepmother (his own mother having died when he was a baby), and she was well-known for her ear-splitting screams. She was also one of Queen Selina's ladies-in-waiting.

"If the ladies are in trouble, we have to help them," Dick insisted chivalrously, scooting out of his chair. "Come on!"

Wally and Roy gladly followed. That was one benefit of being educated with a prince – if he insisted you do something, not even the tutor would stop you.

The boys ran through the halls until they arrived at the solar, a large airy room in which the queen's ladies worked on their embroidery and other things. Inside, though, the room was chaos. Women were shrieking and climbing onto furniture. One rather hapless woman, Lady Harlequin, had fainted and her dearest friend, Lady Ivy, was attempting to revive her.

"What's going on?" Dick asked the nearest women, who informed him that horrible, monstrous frogs were loose in the solar.

"Frogs!" Dick turned to Wally. "We found our frogs!"

"Well you better grab 'em quick," Roy suggested, "before they get injured." He had already seen Dinah stun one by smacking it with her shoe. His stepmother might have screamed loud enough to wake the dead, but she had recovered quickly.

"Help us, Roy. Please?" Wally pleaded and Dick seconded him by appealing to Roy with puppy-dog eyes.

"Alright, here's what we do."

Following Roy's plan of divide and conqueror, the three boys were able to round up all six frogs in a matter of minutes. They were just preparing to leave with their treasures when Queen Selina entered the room.

"What happened here?" she demanded. Her glance fell on the boys. "Why aren't you boys at lessons?"

Dinah calmly explained the situation to Selina who shook her head in mild exasperation at her ladies' inability to handle a few frogs. She then ushered the boys out of the solar, thanking them for their valiant behavior.

Once outside, though, she frowned and sternly asked, "Richard, why did you put frogs in the solar?"

"But, but, Mama, I d-d-didn't," he stammered, looking like he was about to cry.

"Yes, your grace, our pet frogs ran away," Wally offered.

"Pet frogs?" Selina looked skeptical, so Roy stepped in to explain the situation.

Although Selina listened with compassion, she was adamant that the boys had to get rid of the frogs. "No pet frogs in the castle."

Filled with sadness, Dick and Wally followed Roy out of the castle walls to the moat. Once there, they released their frogs.

"I know it's tough to see them go, but don't they look happy here in the moat?" Roy gestured to the fogs, happily hopping around.

Dick sniffed and nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess they do."

"Flash Frog looks happy," Wally agreed, albeit in a sad voice.

"Cheer up, guys. We got some time off from school."

"Yeah," Dick and Wally moped, staring after their frogs.

"Do you think they'll remember us?" Dick asked Wally.

"Of course!" Wally insisted. "Flash Frog must know that no one could have loved him more!"

Roy sighed and allowed the younger boys a few more minutes of ridiculous lamentations. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"You know what guys?"

"What?"

"I know a pet even better than frogs."

"Nothing could be better than frogs!" Dick loyally insisted.

"What?" Wally asked cautiously but with interest.

"Squirrels." Roy let the word hang in the air a few seconds as he watched Dick and Wally's eyes widen. "And the queen can't make us get rid of them either. Ladies love squirrels."

"Will you help us catch some, Roy? Get me my own squirrel?" Dick looked pleadingly at Roy.

"Of course, Dick! One for you, one for Wally, and one for me!"

"I want mine to be the fastest squirrel we can find! And I will call him Flash Squirrel and he will eat nuts out of my hand and sleep on my pillow at night and play tricks on Uncle Barry and…." Wally kept talking a mile a minute but the others tuned him out.

"We'll go today after our jousting lessons," Roy told Dick, directing the younger two back towards the castle.

"Really, Roy? And you'll catch one just for me?" Dick was becoming excited. A soft, furry squirrel sounded like an even better pet than a slimy frog.

"Certainly," Roy replied, "And we'll train them to do all kinds of tricks." Roy was becoming rather excited as well. Squirrels could cause so much more trouble than frogs.

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><p><strong>Medieval noblewomen often kept squirrels as pets.<strong>

**Not my favorite, but I wrote it so I figured I would share it. Sorry for so much on archery, but I was trying to explain why Roy would be so good with a bow.**


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